


Go Together

by texastoasted



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: DadSpy, F/M, M/M, smissmas fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22139206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texastoasted/pseuds/texastoasted
Summary: Spy and Scout are still trying to find common ground after it comes out during the war that they're related. The one thing they both share is being willing to do anything to make sure Scout's mother has a good Smissmas.
Relationships: Engineer/Sniper (Team Fortress 2), RED Spy/Scout's Mother
Comments: 3
Kudos: 72





	Go Together

**Author's Note:**

> a smissmas secret santa gift in my discord server for a friend !!

Scout rounded the corner into the kitchen, hands full with a stack of plates. Engie had donned a pair of rubber gloves and was elbow-deep in bubbles that were practically overflowing out of the sink. Scout could see that his mind was elsewhere, the blush on his face spreading out rapidly from the point of contact with Sniper’s mouth. They were murmuring things, Sniper’s hat tilted down low to cover most of his face. 

“‘Scuse me,” he said, grinning, dropping his plates into the sink with a clatter. The two of them jumped back like they had been scalded, embarrassment clear on Engie’s face. They had only been out with their relationship for a month or so, but were still slinking around like nervous teenagers. It was one of the many things that had changed around the base, and with all that was going on, no one had bothered to give them a good old-fashioned embarrassing. 

“Sorry, son,” Engie apologized, immediately taking the plates from the bottom of the sink and reaching for the sponge.

“Nah, don’t be. Hey, Snipes.” Scout slipped between the two of them and snuck a can of Bonk out of the fridge. “Know if anyone’s got the mail?”

“Hey, mate. Nah, don’t think so.”

“Aw, okay.”

“Waiting on something, Scout?” Engie asked.

“Yeah, aren’t we supposed to get our Smissmass leave?”

“Oh. Yeah, I think so.” Sniper answered, rubbing his chin.

Scout’s chin jutted forwards. “Aren’t you excited about it, Snipes? You aren’t going home this year?”

Sniper’s cheeks colored. “Well,” he began with an effort, “My parents are taking a holiday this year, it’s their wedding anniversary this January.”

“You’re just going to be here, alone?” Scout frowned. “That sucks-”

“I’m actually spending it with Truckie,” Sniper said suddenly.

“Aw, what?” Scout asked, grinning. “That’s cute as shit.”

“Going home as usual, Scout?” Engie asked him. “You’re always welcome at mine, you know that.”

“Yeah, thanks, Engie. I’m gonna be at my mom’s, just waiting to find out exactly how long I get off.”

Spy materialized in the doorway, a cigarette dangling from his lower lip, fingers daintily holding the stem of an empty wine glass. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

Engie looked furtively back and forth between Scout and Spy and stepped forward quickly, flinging suds that had attached themselves to his apron onto the floor. “I’ll take that for you, Spy.”

Scout decidedly stared at the table. He could feel Spy’s gaze on him like an oil slick. Finally, it slid away, and when he looked up the doorway was empty again.

“You should talk to him, Scout,” Engie said gently.

“We talked,” he answered curtly, lip sticking out. 

“Was more like yellin’,” came the nonchalant reply, and Engie turned back to the sink. 

Scout opened his mouth in indignation. “I’m  _ trying _ ,” he said urgently. “I’m trying my best. Not easy when he doesn’t seem to give much of a shit.”

“I know you’re trying, Scout. It ain’t easy and maybe never will be. But you gotta keep trying. It ain’t easy for him either. But he does care, I promise.”

“Whatever,” Scout mumbled, and rolled his eyes. He wanted to ask,  _ how do you even know _ , but he knew what the answer would be. As much as Engie had always been there for him, always stepping in when Spy was right there all of these years that they’d been together, he was still processing the fact that a few other team members knew Spy was his dad and didn’t tell him. Medic finding out from whatever DNA testing he was doing on them, that wasn’t a surprise, and him telling Heavy, that wasn’t a surprise either. He’d been really hurt when he found out that Engie knew. Sniper had tried telling him that keeping Spy’s secret had torn Engie up inside, that he’d really  _ wanted _ to tell him, but Spy had asked him so desperately that he had to keep quiet. It was all,  _ Scout, talk to him _ , and not  _ Spy, talk to him _ . Well, knowing Engie, it probably was, and Spy was probably using some coward excuse. 

“I’m gonna go to my room,” he muttered.

There was a soft rapping on his door, and Scout unfolded his legs from underneath him, getting up with a sigh. It turned out to be Heavy, who was holding out a letter for him. 

“Engineer told me you were waiting on mail.”

“Yeah, thanks. You already read yours?”

“ _ Da _ . Full break.”

Scout summoned a smile. “Great.”

Heavy looked at him for a long moment, like he wanted to spout some wisdom, but didn’t say anything else and went on his way down the hallway. Scout sat back down on his bed, the letter clutched in his fingers. He always waited to call his mother until he had the letter in hand. One year, he’d told her he was coming, and then they had to take an emergency train ride down to the coast because RED decided they were soulless bastards who didn’t observe the holiday, and his mother never let him forget it. There was another year where they were up in the mountains and so snowed in that he couldn’t leave the base, and she never let him forget that either, even though he kept telling her he couldn’t control the weather. If he remembered correctly, the house would be full with family this year. His mom had even boasted some of Scout’s brothers’ dads were coming, too. His mind immediately flashed to Spy. Where was he spending the break? Usually, when someone had asked, Spy gave them some mysterious answer that alluded to enjoying wine and women back in France or elsewhere. Was he spending it with family? Scout’s grandparents? The letter crumpled in his hand.

Scout dialed his mother from the laundry room, several of the dryers humming. 

“Hello?” there was a lot of background noise.

“Hey, Ma. It’s Jeremy.”

“Hello, baby!” she said brightly. “Hush,  _ hush _ , it’s your brother. How are you, honey?”

“I’m okay. The guys there?”

“A few of them, and their dads! Going to be big this year. Henry-put that down, I swear, if you drop that...thank you. Sorry, honey.”

“I got my leave letter. Get the usual break off, I can leave in a week!”

“Oh, baby, that’s wonderful! I’m so excited to see you! You tell that snow to keep away until you get here.”

“Will do, Ma. Love you.”

“Love you too, Jeremy.” she made several kissy noises into the phone. “Oh, I almost forgot to ask you. Is it okay if your dad comes?”

It was a question she asked so nonchalantly that Scout was taken aback, his breath wheezing out of his chest.

“I know that things must be tense between you two. But I just thought it might be nice, especially since he’d just be by himself. Of course, baby, if you’re not okay with it, that’s okay.”

Scout stared blankly at the wall. His chest began to hurt. It had been painfully obvious his whole life that his mother loved the holidays, when everyone was together, because everyone was rarely in one place. He could suck it up.

“Sure, Ma.”

“Oh, honey, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I gotta get going, okay? I’ll see you next week.”

Scout stood there for a few extra minutes, the letter resting on top of the closest washing machine. It was like a physical ticket, an assurance, that he was going home. A little while back, he hadn’t been sure he’d wanted to. The worst betrayal of all was that when he’d called his mom after everything had happened to have their weekly chat, like always, and told her about it, she had already known. She’d said that Spy hadn’t even known that Scout was his son at first, but he figured it out or something, and then called Scout’s mom up to tell her about it. He’d said he’d wanted to tell Scout when it was the right time. But he couldn’t ever be mad at her, and he looked forward to going home all year. She’d asked him, last week, how he was feeling about the whole dad thing. Scout had said it was okay, that he wasn’t thinking about it. It wasn’t like they were ever going to be best friends, so Spy avoiding him was just fine. Scout knew she probably hoped that they would get along, but then, that was Spy’s fault .

His mother started shrieking and hollering the minute he got off the train, waving wildly at him from the platform. She earned bizarre stares from other people on the platform, and Scout’s cheeks colored with happy embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m just so happy you’re finally here,” she said with a brilliant smile, unwilling to let go of his hand as they walked down the platform. “You’re going to be so surprised when we get home! The apartment looks very different.”

“What, did Emmett finally clean up his shit?”

“Yes, yes, he did. He’s a new man out of the army, you know.  _ Very _ orderly.”

Scout had almost forgotten about Spy until they were walking through the living room and he saw the back of one of his mother’s frilly aprons. The warmth of the apartment blanketed him, along with its familiar smell of herbs.

“ _ Bonjour _ ,” Spy said to both of them. His eyes flitted back and forth between Scout and his mother. “ _ Mon cherie _ , the roast is almost done.”

“Perfect! Thank you! I know Jeremy is hungry. He’s always so hungry. Do you want some crackers or something, baby?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll get it,” Spy said smoothly, reaching up automatically in an infuriating, familiar way to the cabinet where his mother always kept the snacks. Scout wondered, suddenly, how many times Spy had been here, if he’d looked at Scout’s stuff when he wasn’t there, sitting in the same spot Scout did on the couch.

“Where is everyone?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets.

“I sent them out to get the tree,” his mother said brightly. “They should be back soon. Do you need any help with anything, Thierry?”

It struck Scout suddenly that his mother was talking to Spy. 

“ _ Non,  _ everything is taken care of. Just rest.”

Scout watched with revulsion as Spy took his mother into his arms. 

“Oh shit,” his mother said suddenly. “I forgot the lights.”

“The lights?” Spy asked softly, tilting his head to kiss her jaw. 

“We always put up lights up around the living room. They’re still in the storage unit. Baby, could you-”

“Sure,” Scout and Spy said in unison.

His mother laughed, a high, pleased sound. “You can go together, then! Perfect! Jeremy, you remember where the unit is, right?”

Scout felt himself bristling as he waited for Spy to lock the door behind them. He set off at a brisk pace, and infuriatingly, Spy had no problem keeping up with him. Thankfully, the other man did not make any attempt at conversation, and they reached the storage unit complex after about fifteen minutes of walking. It was always odd to be back in the neighborhood that he grew up in, walking the same sidewalks that he’d played hopscotch on. It was even more unnerving that Spy was walking them with him. When they got to the unit, Spy brushed the snow off the shoulders of his coat and waited for Scout to produce the key to the unit his mother had given him.

“It’s not working,” Scout complained, jiggling the key in the lock for emphasis.

Spy rolled his eyes. “Give it to me.”

Scout was satisfied when the padlock refused to click open.

“You’re sure this is the right unit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure, dingus, been getting shit outta here my whole life. Maybe the lock is messed up. What are we supposed to do now?”

“It’s no matter,” Spy said smoothly. “I will pick the lock.”

Scout didn’t have any retort for him and wordlessly stood with his back to Spy to keep watch for anyone that might be coming along and get suspicious. The padlock fell into Spy’s glove, and Scout turned around to help him lift the door of the unit. It was packed full of boxes, neatly organized by someone at some point, labelled with all sorts of colored stickers and scribbled sharpie. Scout knew from memory where the boxes that held the lights were, but was dismayed as he stepped between stacks to realize that a heavy box had fallen over and crushed nearly all of the lights. He slowly pulled a strand out of the box, bits of broken glass tinkling on the concrete.

“Shit,” Scout cursed. “The lights are all broken.”

“The logical conclusion is to go purchase more.”

“You ever gone shopping right before Smissmass? The only store around here is pretty tiny and I’m sure they don’t have any left.”

“How important are the lights to your mother?”

Scout felt his cheeks coloring. He’d been looking for a reason to argue. “Pretty fucking important, asshole. It’s a family tradition. You can’t just give up.”

Spy regarded him for a moment, unblinking. “I fully intend on getting the lights, Scout. I was simply attempting to get a sense if they are worth justifying murder for.”

He might have been joking, but Scout didn’t care enough to figure it out. He huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets, walking briskly out of the storage unit. If Spy was surprised to find him waiting outside of the building, he didn’t indicate it. 

“Got any bright ideas?”

Spy took a long drag from the lit cigarette that materialized between his spindly fingers. “ _ Oui.  _ We could take them.”

“From? Someone’s house?”

Spy only looked at him. 

“Come on,” Scout complained. “I grew up with most of the people in this neighborhood. They don’t deserve to have their lights stolen.”

Spy shrugged and began walking.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, if you do not want to get the lights.”

“Wait! I want to get the lights, man. Maybe we just...take them from someone I don’t know.”

“Fine by me,” Spy replied. He did not say anything more until Scout, muttering under his breath, finally stopped outside of a run-down looking house.

“Well?”

“I don’t know ‘em,” Scout admitted, breath clouding in the frigid air as soon as it escaped his lips. “But what if it’s like...another single mom or something?”

“Doubtful,” Spy said simply. 

“How do you know?”

“I have cased all of the people in your mother’s neighborhood.”

“So who is it?”

“A very disgruntled old man.”

“What’s he disgruntled for?”

“Does it matter, Scout?”  
“Well, yeah! If he’s mad because his wife died or something, stealing his lights could, I dunno, push him over the edge or something!”

“If I recall he has a long history of domestic violence.”

“Perfect,” Scout remarked with a broad smile. “All right, go invisible and everything and get ‘em.”

He watched, fingers curled around the top of the chain link fence, as snow-dusted grass was depressed in the shape of footsteps. There was an underwhelming pause as the footsteps reached the side of the house, and then they came back.

“I cannot reach them,” came the disembodied voice.

Scout rolled his eyes. “All right, I’ll give you a boost.”

Scout braced himself against the side of the house. He grimaced as he felt the slimy, wet underside of Spy’s shoe in his open hands. Slowly, the line of lights were removed from the line of nails on the outside of the house, and Scout’s cheeks puffed out with effort as he watched the cord slowly spiraling onto the ground next to him. 

“Hurry up,” Scout hissed. He looked up to see how far along Spy had gotten and was greeted by the face of the homeowner squished in the corner of the window, glaring down at him with two beady and suspicious eyes. They drifted to the line of lights slowly unfurling from the roof, and Scout heard the shout reverberate through the window.

“Fuck! Spy, he sees us!”

In his panic, Scout felt Spy’s foot wobbling in his hands. He suddenly heaved the other mercenary up with a great deal of force, hearing disembodied cursing in French and a muffled  _ thump _ as Spy landed on the roof. The man came barrelling out the door and into the yard.

“What the fuck are you doing, stealing my lights?” the man shouted at him. “Damn kid!”

Scout scanned the ground around him for a large rock or something that he could throw at the man, but there was a loud, strangled noise, and Scout saw with horror that Spy was now on top of the neighbor, forcing his face into the snow. Evidently sufficiently spooked by the invisible assailant, once the back of his head was released, the man hurried quickly back into the relative safety of his house.

“Jesus,” Scout could only say, breathing hard.   
  


They were soon scuttling down the block, Scout’s arms full of bundled lights. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“For?”

“Jumping on that guy.”

“My pleasure. I suppose I should extend thanks to you, as well.”

“For what?” Scout asked suspiciously.

“Permitting me to spend the holiday with your mother. And her brood.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, Scout. I understand it’s not your first choice.”

He shrugged. “Makes my Ma happy.”

“Well, I appreciate it nonetheless. I understand we aren’t getting along very well at the moment.”

Scout fixed his gaze on the sidewalk cracks. “We never get along,” he said, half-joking.

“We are very different people, and I am grateful for it,” Spy retorted. Scout opened his mouth, immediately reading the insult. “Nonetheless. We will speak when we get back, and I will properly apologize and explain things to you. You deserve that.”

Scout let the pause hang in the air. “Yeah, okay.”

Wordless for the rest of the way, they both slowed to a stop once they reached the bottom of the steps that led up to the apartment building. Spy was looking at him, and then he nodded his head rather solemnly before proceeding up the stairs. Scout stood with his back to the steps. It had begun to snow again, and minute flakes drifted down from the sky, coating his outstretched fingers.

“Are you coming,  _ mon fils _ ?”

“Was that an insult?” Scout asked, turning to bound up the steps.

“No.”

“I don’t believe you,” Scout retorted, and let the door to the building close behind the both of them.


End file.
